It would be useful, I think, to remember our common humanity. Our humanity is as common in March as it is in December. We are bound by the same fears, the same joys, the same heartbreaks and the same temptations. We have all fallen short of our own standards, and we have all done things that, though we may regret them, we can never change. And we have done things for which we are not sorry, even though we probably should be.
We have gotten more slack than we have given; we have been forgiven more than we forgave.
We have each of us in our own ways led charmed lives. The fact that we are alive at all to read these words is magical enough. Even if we have severe health problems, even if we will not last until next December, we have the sun in the morning and the moon at night. Cheap Tin Pan Alley sentiments, but think about it: the life-giving sun rising every morning, even when obscured by clouds; the romantic moon in the sky every night, casting a silvery glow on all the evil and wickedness in the world.